What Boredom Brings
by thegreatbluespoon
Summary: Bored, the group poses a question. What's the worst case you ever had? ...an attempted gift for TDCSI's bday...


TDCSI told me she wanted a funny fic for her birthday. Seeing as she wrote an awesome fic for my b-day, I figured, 'meh, I'll give it a shot.'

So…Happy Birthday to TDCSI. –sings repetitive, irritating song- Now, go read.

If you're picky about it, there's kind of a spoiler from 'A la cart' in here near the start.

* * *

As Sara and Grissom made their way into the break room, they couldn't help but laugh at the sight before them. 

Warrick was in front of Ecklie's picture at the 'Employee of the Month' wall with a marker, "not doing anything, if Ecklie asks you." Catherine was sitting at the table, throwing cheese cubes across the room to Greg, who was sitting on the floor and doing a decent job at catching them in his mouth. Nick was standing at the microwave with a bag of grapes, putting them in four at a time. Grissom knew he'd regret letting Nick find out grapes blew up when you stuck them in the microwave.

When Greg had to lunge for a cube, he noticed the pair in the doorway. "Oh, hey," he said in a very un-Greg voice.

Everyone else turned and offered their greetings, too. Grissom and Sara said 'hi' back and took their seats.

"About time you two got here," Catherine said, lobbing another cheese wad at Greg. "I thought we were going to have to start checking all the lockable rooms around here."

Rolling his eyes, Grissom said, "Yeah, I'm sure Ecklie would love that."

"At least he's stopped bitching about the fact that you two are together."

Sara shrugged. "I move to swing shift in a week. No one makes a big deal of it and he won't either."

"Good. Everyone deserves to be happy," Nick said, still maintaining his position at the microwave.

"Speaking of being happy…" Greg practically whined. "Please tell me you finally have some cases for us."

"Sorry," Grissom sighed. "Slowest night in two months."

Greg moaned and let himself fall over on the floor. "I'm _so_ **bored** I feel like _banging_ my _head_ off the _wall_."

"Well, Greg, you could probably use it," Grissom said.

Greg huffed, "Gee, thanks, Grissom."

"That's not what I meant," Grissom laughed. "Just that, with all those chunks of cheese you were eating, you probably should," he said in his classic 'you're-about-to-learn-something-you-couldn't-care-less-about voice.' "Banging your head against the wall burns one hundred and fifty calories an hour, you know."

Staring at him blankly for a minute, Greg then said, "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He looked at Sara and said, "Control your encyclopedia, please."

She laughed and scooted over to make room at the table for Warrick, who had apparently finished 'not drawing' on Ecklie's picture. "What are we supposed to do if we don't have cases?" Sara asked.

"I'm fine," Nick said, putting in more grapes.

"Nick," Grissom sighed. "Aren't those Hodges' grapes?"

His reply was, "Half the fun, man," and a loud popping sound from within the microwave.

"Nick, back away from the grapes and come sit down."

He did as he was told, but not before kicking the cabinets like a pissed five-year-old.

Everyone at the table looked across the room at Greg. Sprawled out on the floor, he looked back at them and rolled his eyes. "What?" he asked snottily.

"Well, are you just going to stay down there, or are you going to come up here and sit like the rest of us big kids?" Grissom chuckled.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Greg pulled himself up from the floor and made his way over to the table. Sitting across from Sara, he couldn't help but kick her under the table when she wouldn't stop laughing at him.

"Do I need to get the duct tape again?" Catherine threatened and the two stopped their actions immediately.

"What are we doing?" Warrick asked. "I've got half of day shift over there I could color on," he said and pointed over at the picture covered wall.

"I have half a bag of grapes to go through," Nick protested.

Greg added, "I was comfortable," as he pouted.

Grissom sighed, "Either you all stop whining, or you're all fired."

Silence.

"Good," Grissom laughed. "Rumor has it that I still need to work on how personable I am with you all. How about we do that?" he asked. "Tell me about your lives."

Silence…and odd looks.

"What?" Grissom asked.

"Ew." Greg made a grossed-out face. "Why?"

Grissom was surprised. "What? You don't want to?"

"Uh…well, it's not that we don't _want_ to."

"It's just that…"

"We could do something else."

"Oh. Okay," Grissom said. "What do you recommend?"

No one really had anything else in mind, but no one really wanted to do what he suggested. After a couple minutes of silence and an occasional 'uh,' Catherine said she had an idea. Running to her locker and back in record time, she took her seat again and placed a piece of paper in the middle of the table.

"What's that for?"

She explained, "You know that fancy restaurant they've been working on over on the other side of town? Well, they just finished it and I know some people that are related to some people, long story, whatever, so I got an invite."

"But…"

"But I can't go," she said. "Lindsey has a thing."

"And so who gets this?" Greg asked, nodding to the invitation.

"The invitation is for me and a guest, so I don't really know who I'd like to give it to." Catherine shrugged. "I figure it's competition time."

"No!" Nick yelled. "Uh-uh! The last time I got roped into a competition with all of you guys, I ended up not being able to grow leg hair for three months. I am _not _doing this."

"No matter what I had planned?" Catherine asked.

Nick shook his head defiantly. "No way, no how."

"What's the competition, Cath?" Grissom asked.

"The worst case you ever had," she laughed.

"Aw, hell!" Nick yelled, knowing he probably would've won. Who else had a naked little person dipped in wax and strapped to the hood of a car involved in their case?

"That's what you get for assuming, Nicky," Grissom laughed.

"Who goes first?" Catherine asked.

Warrick said, "Since Nick's not going, and I'm going with you for Lindsey's thing, it's obviously between Greg and Griss or Sara."

"That's not fair," Greg objected. "They'll go together."

"So?" Grissom said.

"So you should only get one story between the two of you," Greg said. "I get one, you guys get one."

"Fine, ya baby," Sara said as she kicked him under the table again.

"Two against one _is_ a little unfair." Catherine agreed with Greg. "Who's going?"

"Greg can go," Sara offered. "Last at the table, first to suffer," she smirked.

"Last at the table, first to dominate the hell out of story telling," he corrected. "Though I fail to see how this is fair, what with you all having a million and twelve years of cases on me, I do happen to have a few funky ones in my vault."

"Greg, shut up and go."

Ignoring the hate from around the table, Greg gave his chin a thoughtful tap as he recalled one of his earliest solo cases.

--

_As Greg pulled up to the scene, he noticed that there were several police cars, but only a couple of cops walking around. Obviously thinking it was odd, he was careful as he got out and grabbed his kit._

_Sofia was there to greet him and Greg asked what was going on. _

_Laughing as she said it, Sofia said, "You're gonna love this."_

_As she led him over to where the victim was, Greg noticed that almost everyone at the scene, excluding a few that had more important things to do other than make bets about just what was going on in front of them, had gathered to stand around a tree. Some had their heads tipped to the left, some to the right, and some had their chins propped up on their hands as if they were studying a work of art…though what they were looking at was certainly not art._

_Stopping next to an officer and setting down his kit without taking his eyes off of the body in the tree, Greg breathed out, "Cool."_

"_Figured you'd love it," Sofia grinned._

"_How many are on there?" Greg asked._

"_Like any of us counted," she laughed."We're all still throwing out guesses for why they're even on the guy in the first place."_

_Greg shrugged and laughed. "I have no clue."_

"_When's the coroner get here? We need to get him down," Sofia pointed out._

"_I think Doc is coming, but I haven't got a clue about how we're supposed to get that guy down. I definitely don't have any idea about how we're supposed to keep all that stuff on him," Greg said and reached down to open his kit._

_Twenty minutes later, Doc Robbins and an assistant showed up at the scene. "Couldn't have picked a more secluded place to stick the guy?" Doc muttered as he got out of the van. "Get lost four damn times on the Podunk roads in this back-alley, ridiculous…" he said, trailing off as he grabbed what he needed from the back._

"_Over here, Doc!" Greg yelled and waived to him._

_Robbins gave a short wave back and, noticing the body hanging from the tree, told his assistant to get the ladder. Making his way over to the crowd, he asked, "What's the big damn deal, Greg?"_

_Greg smiled and pointed up at the man hanging in the tree by his feet, completely covered in hotdogs, except for what had been wrapped around his arms and upper torso. Those were gone, along with the arms and upper torso, apparently eaten away by animals._

"_Holy hell," Doc said as the small crowd of officers cleared a path for him. "Hotdogs, Greg?"_

"_Yeah!" He squeaked out, obviously too excited over the whole deal._

_Doc rolled his eyes and asked Sofia to get the other officers to go back to work. After the pack had gone back to what they were supposed to be doing, the assistant set up the ladder for Greg, and he climbed up it and into the tree._

"_Greg, we'll wrap the bag around the body first, so that we don't lose any hotdogs," Doc yelled up to him. "After that, you can cut the rope and we'll lower him onto the gurney, into the other bag. I think that'll work."_

"_Right," Greg said, trying not to fall out of the tree as he leaned over to help with the wrapping._

_After the three had the body wrapped completely, he made sure Doc's assistant had hold of the guy before he marked the rope and cut it. The body fell straight into the guy's arms and he led it into the body bag with help from Robbins._

_Clicking on his flashlight to inspect the branch for evidence, Greg told Robbins that he could go ahead and leave, so long as he left the ladder. Heaven forbid he be stuck in a tree that smelled like food all night._

_As soon as all the evidence was collected from the scene, Greg was back at the lab with lightning speed. Dropping off all of his evidence where it needed to go, he didn't even take the time to flirt with Sara like he normally would. He was at autopsy before you could say 'Leggo my Greggo.'_

"_Doc," he said excitedly as he breezed through the door, "What've you got?"_

"_No name yet, so we're calling him 'Hotdog Man.' Knock the originality and I'll knock you," Robbins said, holding up his crutch with warning. _

"_Hey, I like it," Greg said with an approving smile. "Probably what I would've come up with."_

"_Well, Hotdog Man was covered in one hundred and sixty-eight hotdogs. Obviously, there were more on the rest of him, but they were eaten right along with his arms, chest and head."_

"_With prints and dental out, I guess my hopes lie with Missing Persons and DNA," Greg shrugged. _

"_Good luck with that," Robbins said and handed Greg the bag of hotdogs._

_A giant smile spread across Greg's face. "How is this not the coolest thing ever?"_

--

"Okay, I'm stopping you right there," Catherine cut in. "Greg, besides nearly falling out of the tree, you sound like you had fun. Why are you telling us about that case?"

"Oh, because of the way it ended up," he said. "It was terrible."

When he said nothing after that, Grissom pushed for more. "Care to elaborate, or do we have to guess about Hotdog Man, Greg?"

"Sorry. Eventually, Sofia and I found the guy responsible for stringing up Hotdog Man. It was his business partner," Greg explained. "Said he tied him up with hotdogs on him and shoved one in his mouth because he was always showing off, and it was costing them business."

"And how does that make it your worst case?"

"Oh, come on. That's like the worst joke ever, you guys." Not receiving any understanding looks, he clarified. "The guy was a 'hot dog' so he was strung up and wrapped with hotdogs? Puh-lease," he scoffed.

Everyone let out a groan at Greg's terrible attempt at a win.

"Greg, that's the worst thing I've ever heard!" Sara laughed, "Your reason is worse than the case!"

He shot her a look and suggested she go to a very warm place. "At least Sofia agreed with me."

"Grow up, Greg. If you think _that's_ getting you my invitation, you are sadly, _miserably_ mistaken. You better hope one of these two tells me something about poodles and sunshine," Catherine said.

"Give me another chance," Greg tried. "I've got one about how I got to a scene and ended up having to babysit Ecklie's two thousand dollar cat so that his ex-wife wouldn't take it. That freaking thing bit me, and then Ecklie accused _me _of being mean to _it_. Can you believe that crap?"

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you instated the one story rule," Catherine laughed and turned to Grissom and Sara. "Which one of you is story telling?"

Grissom didn't feel like bothering with the whole mess, so Sara took their turn.

"Does it have to be a solo case?" she asked, addressing everyone. "I've got one, but Griss and I did it together."

Sara had to wait until after the childish giggles died down, but everyone said they didn't care, so long as it was anything better than that of Greg's Hotdog Man.

--

_As Grissom squatted down next to Sara, he moved the beam from his flashlight around the room. Following it with her eyes, Sara's face became one of shock. When the light stopped on something of a hell of a lot of interest, she tilted her head to the left to get a better view, and Grissom did the same._

"_Okay, yeah, _that's_ not possible," Sara said, shaking her head as she stood up, throwing her hands up in confusion and defeat._

_Grissom tilted his head more and said, "Uh, obviously it is, or we wouldn't be here looking at it."_

"_But…" she moved her hands in the air as if trying out what the killer had possibly done. "Think about it."_

"_I am," Grissom said, trying to tilt his head even more for a different and better view. "I don't get it, but…well, we still have to process it."_

_Sara stared down at him incredulously._

_Looking up at her, he smiled. "What?"_

"_And just how do you suggest we go about doing that, Grissom?" she asked, pointing around the wrecked room, then to the two bodies in front of them "That man literally has his foot shoved in his mouth, and the other guy has his head cut off and shoved up his-"_

"_Sara," Grissom interrupted with a laugh. "I get it."_

"_How the hell are we supposed to help David?" she asked, obviously concerned about just how the two bodies were supposed to fit in the coroner's bags._

"_Actually…I was hoping you had an idea," he said as he stood up._

"_Well, I don't," she snorted. "But what I can tell you is that I'm not touching the second guy. Maybe the foot guy, but the ass man…yeah, that's not happening."_

"_I certainly hope you're not proposing that I'm the one that's supposed to," he said, mock surprise crossing his face._

"_Geek fight?" Brass asked as he made his way back into the room, cringing when he saw the bodies again._

_Grissom chuckled and Sara gave Brass a death-stare before he started offering up the information he had for them about the victims. "The guy with his head so deftly hidden up his behind is a lawyer, so take that however you want," he said with a grin. "Tootsie there worked at Circus Circus as a chef. A neighbor lady, the only one I could find that was able to tolerate the guy even a little bit, said that he was kind of an asshole, so she isn't surprised that he's dead."_

_Brass' last comment caught Sara by surprise. "I thought you said she liked him?"_

"_I said she tolerated him a little bit," he clarified. "You should have heard what everyone else said about him."_

"_I think I can guess, thanks," she said flatly. Turning her flashlight on and moving to step around Grissom, Sara asked Brass if he had any ideas about what they should do._

"_Hey, you two are the ones that deal with stuff every day." Brass said with appreciation that it wasn't him. "I'm sorry, but this is definitely on you to figure out. Can't be too hard, though. I mean, lawyer with his head up his ass and a chef with his foot in his mouth. I say it goes with their professions, no?"_

_Sara shrugged. "I just want to know how the killer got the guy's head to fit up-"_

"_Oh. Oh, wow," David said, cutting her off as he stepped into the doorway._

"_Hi, David." Grissom greeted him and his assistant before moving out of the way of the bodies._

"_I- I thought…that…you know, it was a joke," David said, still not moving from his spot._

_Brass asked, "That what was a joke?"_

_David pointed at the bodies. "I thought the dispatcher was just messing with me."_

"_Why would she be messing with you, David?" Grissom asked._

"_Well, why would she have been serious about a dead guy with his leg bent up so that his foot's in his mouth, and body with a head in its rectum?" David retorted._

_Brass gave a laugh. "The guy has a point."_

"_I didn't even know it'd fit," David muttered as his assistant moved outside to throw up._

_Sara snorted as she began taking pictures, "Which one?"_

"_Well, I'm sure the foot was difficult enough, but the head?" he said, his face full of disgust._

"_I'm not sure I even want to know," Grissom said, and was agreed with by Brass and Sara. "You and Doc figure that out."_

"_But-" David started._

"_From here on out, the words 'but' and 'butts' are not allowed," Sara ordered. "I won't be able to look at anyone with a straight face today if they say them to me."_

"_Then I'd strongly suggest avoiding Greg at all costs," David warned._

"_Why's that?" she asked._

_Grissom laughed, "Because of his case. Greg has-"_

--

"Stop!" Catherine yelled. "I think we'd all agree that we've heard _plenty_ about that to declare you two the winners here. Besides, if you continue, then Greg actually would be getting two stories."

"But I didn't even get to tell you the best part," Sara complained.

"And what would that be?" Catherine asked cautiously.

"The lawyer guy? Yeah, it wasn't even his own head," Sara added with a smirk as she reached over and grabbed the invitation.

After everyone around the table got done gagging and groaning, Nick asked, "But I thought you said that his head was cut off and…you know, shoved up there?"

Sara let out a laugh. "His head _was_ cut off, but we never found it."

"Actually, we still don't know whose head was up there," Grissom chimed in. "We haven't solved the case yet, Nick."

This began Greg's protests as he reached across the table and stole the invite from Sara. "Hey, at least I solved my case!" he yelled. "They didn't, so they shouldn't win!"

"Greg," Catherine laughed, "Can you honestly say that your case beats a body with a _random_ head inserted into it? Can you?"

He thought about it and huffed out, "No."

Just as Sara reached over, smacking Greg's arm and stealing the invitation back, Grissom's pager went off.

"Who wants it?" he asked.

Catherine and Warrick volunteered to take it before Greg could, and headed off after congratulating Sara. Nick offered to go do inventory, and Greg headed off to check the progress of some evidence around the lab. Left on their own in the break room, Grissom turned to Sara and scolded her for making up a story for the sole purpose of a free dinner.

Letting out a raucous laugh, Sara said, "Like they know any better."

"It wouldn't be too hard for Catherine to find out, you know. Actually, all any of them have to do is ask Brass or David," he said. "They'll know right away that you lied."

"You went along with it. Besides, I'll have cashed in on my winnings by then," she laughed, waiving the invite in his face.

Stealing it away from her, he said, "Uh, I recall being the lead CSI on the case in your fake story. I do believe that makes _me_ the winner."

"But you'll be buying me dinner with it anyway, so it doesn't matter, does it?" Snagging the invitation back out of his hand, she laughed, "Jeez, Grissom, pull your head outta your ass."

* * *

Damn, that was _wrong_. Hope you all enjoyed it, though. (Especially you, hippie.) 

After you get done sending me your ever-so-lovely reviews, you should go send TDCSI some b-day wishes. (Reviews first- it's called priority, people.)

thegreatbluespoon


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